Violence, Runs in the Family
by Valentina LaFontaine
Summary: They could run from the law, run from their lives, run into debt, run from it all, run for the office and run for the cause. Run using every last ounce of energy but they couldn't run from him. He was living inside of them. *Honey and Sulphur Sequel*
1. Mime

_Hello, my loves and welcome to Honey & Sulpur's sequel. Think of this as the introduction. This story is alot darker than the previous one. This contains, sexuality, racial slurs, violence, degrodation, multilation, and above all the terrible things mankind refuses to acknowledge. Please do not read if you cannot take it. This is not a reflection on the views of me the writer or my lovely readers. Please do NOT message me about how much it offends you because frankly I couldn't care less. I have never censored myself and I never will._

Hope you enjoy.  
With love,  
Valentina LaFontaine.

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A pale man sat in a cold metal chair which was bolted down to the floor. He didn't look at the two way glass mirror that was on both sides of the room. He stared straight forward. Detective Gordon watched from behind the mirror at the pale man. He didn't seem scared, happy, sad, angry or showed any emotion at all. He looked blank and cold almost dead, at least in the eyes. He was dressed from head to toe in black . His hair was straight and jet black with no shine of color. He wore a long sleeved black shirt, and black pants that looked faded from constant washing. His steel toe boots hid under his black pants. He calmly smoked a cigarette his eyes still solidly fixed on the foor.

"What did he do?" Gordon asked to his partner Gerald O'Connor who was staring at the man with pure hated written on his face. "He was caught robbing a bank, killing nine people and got left behind." O'Connor sighed. "Apprantly he works for the Clown Prince of Crime himself. He was wearing Mime clown make up but he washed it off."

Gordon nodded. "Is he saying anything?"

"Nope." O'Connor said scratching the back of his neck. "All he asked was for a pack of cigarettes." Gordon sighed and watched him for a few more seconds and finally worked up the courage to walk into the interrogation room. He walked into the room and haulted. Not from the creepy man sitting in front of him but from the bright lights beaming down on him. Once he did he walked forward and got a better look at the silent man. He was thin but not gnagly and his light hazel eyes stood out even more from the black charcoal under his eyes from the clown make up.

"Mime?" he asked.

The man looked up and stared into Gordon's eyes trying to read him, he nodded. Gordon felt a small chill com up his spine and linger. His gaze was so cold, and callous he could read his mental state from his pupils. His gaze wasn't one of a criminal but a man filled with a raoaring sadistic rage behind the calm demeanor. Gordon took a seat in front of him, and both men stared at each other. Mime was the first to make a move. His actions were so slow it made Gordon suspicious. He wrapped his thin fingers around the box of cigarettes and extended his arm slightly. Gordon shook his head. "No thanks, I quit." Mime nodded and placed the cigarette box back on the metal table.

"Do you know why you were arrested?" Gordon asked. Mime pondered and then finally answered with a slight nod. Though he said he knew Gordon opened the manilla folder and revealed it's contents. "You've been working with the Joker for some time now." He said, fingering through the crisp white papers. "For about six years now. It's odd. We've never seen the same people alive who've been associated with the Joker. Why have you Jester, and Mad Cap survived?"

Mime was silent for a bit then shrugged. Gordon rolled his eyes and placed a finger to his temple. "You're not much of a talker, are you?"

"No." Mime said finally. His voice was fairly deep and in strict monotone. "Hench the title Mime."

Gordon nodded and took out a note book pad and a blue pen. He clicked the top of the blue pen and placed it a milimeter away to the paper. "So tell me something about the Joker."

Mime finished his cigarette and smashed it into the metal table. He clasped his hands together. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything and anything you can tell me." Gordon said. Mime cracked his knuckles and his neck and tapped his chin with his pale fingers. "Hmm, where to begin?" he asked.

"Depends. What would you like to discuss?"

Gordon thought for a second. "How about you? Anything at all. Your family, beliefs, that piece of jewelry around your neck." He pointed to the pentagram and inverted cross around Mime's neck. He looked down and stroked it between his index finger and thumb. "It was given to me personally by the High Priest of the Church of Satan."

"Oh?" Gordon asked, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. "And why do you keep it?"

"The same reason why old ladies keep a cross around their neck. Not only to show their religious devotion but for some mystical protection." His cold eyes stayed on Gordon and with his every move they rested. His voice was icy and never drifted from it's monotone octave.

"So you think these.. symbols protect you?"

"Oh I don't think it. I know it." he corrected. "In many instances it saved my life. Not from the Joker but from your guns. Hell only knows where I would be without them by my side." He carrassed it again making Gordon squirm more.

"Are you a Christian?" Mime asked, Gordon.

"Yes I am."

"Why?"

"I was raised that way."

"Does your work ever effect that belief? I'm sure you've seen what people like me have done to this city. Does it make you question that maybe this is God's way of punishing this city like he punshied Sodom and Gomorrah? Or maybe you think that there is no God at all. Only the devil." Mime sneered at him. Gordon didn't respond only scribbled down notes.

"So that's what you think I think?"

"It was a simple question Detective. You could've answered yes or no."

"What I believe is none of your business." Gordon snapped back, reminding himself not to lose his composure. It's what Mime wanted after all.

"Oh really? I thought you Christians were so eager to save someone from the depths of their own vice that you must show how holy you are. Or are you feeling the holy spirit on Sunday?"

Gordon scribbled something down on his paper but Mime's eyes didn't move from him. "So what else do you believe Mime?"

"Why does it matter? You'll only use it against me in a court of law. I believe in what everyone else secretly believes but don't have the courage to say it."

"And that is?"

"How many children do you have?"

The question shocked Gordon for a second. He squinted and placed a finger to his temple. "What? I don't think that's important Mime."

"But you do have children?"

"I rather not answer."

Mime sneered at him again and nodded. "Okay. Lets say hypthetically you have children. For lack of a better example, three children. Two of the oldest ones were just fine. Healthy, smart, and beautiful. However lets just say the youngest is horribly deformed. I don't mean he has a lazy eye or a crooked nose. I mean he's more of a Quasimodo. So deformed that he's unbearable to look at. He could barely see and he could barely move because of that ugly hump on his back. What would you honestly do?"

"I would love it and take care of it."

"Let him see the light of day?"

"Yes."

"Even though he'd faced ridicule and the crueltly of man everyday?"

"Yes."

"Now that's absolute evil."

"How so?"

"You're giving him hope." Mime replied, folding one arm over the other. "That's cruel. You're making him believe that he can be normal like the rest of us. That he's healthy but when he gets out into the world he'll wonder why they make fun of him and treat him horribly and whose fault would it be for his woe but only you. If that were my son I would take him out to the woods and shoot him painless in the back of the head so he would never know real mental anguish. It's best after all. It keeps out the undesirables from infecting the strong." Mime finished, and took another drag from his cigarette.

"I believe all life is precious. No matter who or what it is. And even though you've done some horrible things I would never take away your life unless it was to defend a innocent one."

"Innocent?" Mime asked frowning. "Is that your justification? You would justify killing me for a 'innocent' life? How do you know that person was innocent? If something bad happens to them, then they must've done something to deserve God's wrath."

"Bad things happen to good people."

"And good people do bad things, correct?"

Gordon sighed and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Yes."

"So if we all do bad things then no one is innocent."

"If you want to look at it that way, then yes.

"So why would you justify in killing me for a person who may or may not be innocent?"

"Lets move on." Gordon replied slowly losing patience. "So did the Joker alter your vision of the pure race of people? That anyone who is slightly deformed must be put to death for the good of society."

"No, absolutely not."

"Then what did?"

"I guess I always believed it. I think even you know it would be easier but because of your beliefs it clouds your judgement. You can't just look at one spot of color, Detective you have to look at the entire painting."

"What has the Joker taught you? Anything at all?"

"Exactly what I told you before hand. I don't live behind the common belief. I don't dress normal, I don't pretend to be anything I am not. I don't live behind a mask, I am that I am but more."

Gordon sighed and returned his pen to his notepad. "What's your real name Mime?"

"Roy Orbison."

"Seriously."

"Alright, alright. Johnny Cash."

"Look Mime if you-."

"Humbert Humbert." Blake said with a sick twisted grin on his face. Gordon stuffed his note pad and pen into his coat pocket turned around and walked out the door. He wasn't going crazy because of Mime but he needed to remain professional no matter how many buttons he pushed. He decided to run across the street and get a coffee then maybe come back. As he walked out he heard Mime's voice echo throughout the room.

"Awww leaving so soon? Come back when you want to chat some more."

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_It's really short I know. It's more of a teaser, more to come soon my loves. :) Keep reading._

Valentina LaFontaine.


	2. Happy Birthday

_Sorry, heres proof that I am not working well with my muses. So busy and seasonal depression is kicking my ass. This is what happens when AP classes mix with bi polar misfits. Okay just so you know this takes place a few years before the last chapter. This is pretty long so yeah. I have a few stories backed up so it might take awhile to update this bad boy. Please review I really enjoy them and they give me some encouragement. Tell me if you like it, or whatever. I can't improve unless I know._

_Well off we go. Enjoy._

_I do not own Batman or the Joker. I do own Blake, Bianca, Jaxx and Val. So yeah they're mine._

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"Happy Birthday, Jaxx." Val said into the sleeping eighteen year olds ear. Jaxx smiled and pushed his dirty blonde hair out of his face. "Thank you." He said digging his head into the pillow. Val kissed his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. "It seems like almost yesterday you were a tiny cute little baby in my arms. Now you're a man."

"Yeah." He said sifting himself and leaning on his elbows. Val kissed him again on the forehead and Jaxx chuckled. "Alright Mom." He said wiping his face. "Guess what I got you." She said sitting at the foot of his bed moving aside dirty clothes and handing him a box with Harley Davidson wrapping paper. "Nice paper Mom." He laughed ripping the paper and opening the box.

When he opened it he spotted a black leather sleeve. His eyes immediately widen and he ripped what was left of the wrapping paper. It was a beautiful leather jacket with zippers on the sleeves and bright silver buttons on the front and straps on the shoulders. "Oh shit Mom." He exclaimed immediately dropping the box on the floor and slide his muscular arms into the sleeves. He pulled the jacket close to his body and sighed.

"I look pretty fucking good."

"Mhm." Val said nodding. Her dark pink nightgown spread over his black and gray covers. She straightens the pink fabric neatly and touched his cheek. "I'm glad you liked it, baby." She said getting up. His eyes fell upon the bruises lining her arms, neck and her shoulders. Jaxx stared at them. Val looked away from him and pulled her robe closer to her body.

"Your father was a little rough last night." She explained but Jaxx nodded his head, signaling Val to stop. Val sighed and decided to change the subject. "You going out for awhile?" she asked and Jaxx shrugged.

"More than likely. I haven't been out of the house all week."

"Well be back before eight and no fighting."

"Why not take the fun out of life?"

"I hate seeing you with bruises."

Jaxx bit his tongue. He didn't want to tell his mother that he didn't want to see her with bruises as well, but last time he mentioned them she became incredibly sad and it was too nice of a day to have it ruined. Val smiled and said. "Well you mind what I said. I want you here Eight o'clock sharp, got it?" Jaxx nodded. "Yes ma'am." He said with a small salute. Val chuckled and walked out of the room. Jaxx slowly got out of bed and grabbed a pair of dark blue jeans, slide it on him and threw on a black t-shirt and his leather jacket and grabbed his keys next to his tv stand, and slipped his feet into his steel toe boots. He shoved his hair out of his face and walked to the bathroom. After brushing his teeth and finger combing his hair he walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Blake was already sitting at the dinning table scribbling away on a piece of paper. Jaxx grabbed a energy drink and yelled across the room.

"Yo Blake."

Blake didn't respond. Instead he continued to write until Jaxx flicked a plastic spoon at him. Blake jumped slightly and turned around, frowned and cut off his music player.

"What?" he asked in a monotone voice despite his irritation. "What are you working on?" Jaxx asked trying to peak over his shoulder from the distance. Blake picked up his notebook and showed it to him. "Homework." he replied.

"Oh. Why don't you just drop out?"

"Because I don't want to be an idiot for the rest of my life." Jaxx glared at him and chugged his energy drink down.

"By the way Happy Birthday." Blake said turning back to his work and turning up his music. "Yeah." Jaxx said tossing his can in the trash and walked out the front door to the fairly warm outdoors. A pale brunette was lying on a white towel staring up at the sky with heart shaped glasses on her nose. He didn't feel like saying hi and he figured she was probably off in her strange trances like she normally was, so he walked past her.

His hand was cupping the handle to his '73 Ford Thunderbird when the girl lying on the ground picked her body up. "Don't walk away like you didn't see me." she said. She straightened her top covering her young pubescent body. Though she was only twelve she resembled the mature looks of a slightly older teenager. Her thin face and pointed chin of her mother and the button nose of her father. What stood out most was her bright green eyes, that she inherited from her paternal grandmother. Every member of their family could agree she was blessed with stunning looks especially for a child her age.

She took off her sunglasses and tiled her hand on her forehead to avoid the glare from the bright sun. "Mr. Jackson Verona." Bianca said. "Did you just walk right past me without saying hi. I haven't seen you in over thirteen hours.

"Yep." Jaxx replied with a smug smile.

"Asshole."

"Watch your mouth child!" Jaxx snapped playfully. Bianca frowned. "I'm not a child, I'll be thirteen in three months."

"Yeah not a kid at all."

Bianca pouted her lips in frustration then sighed. "Hey Jaxx?"

"Yeah?"

"Ya think you could introduce me to that new employee of dads?"

"What? Jaxx asked frowning. "Wait you mean that Ramirez beaner?"

"Jaxx! That's mean. Don't say that." Bianca cried putting her sunglasses back on, and staring off into the distance. "How can you be so cruel?"

"I don't give a shit. I'm not letting some Rican fence climber stick his burrito in my sister. Plus he's twenty four. No way."

"Please?"

"No!" he snapped this time out of frustration. Bianca stuck her tongue out at him and laid back down in the sun. Jaxx's racist ways has become worse as time went on. One of his best friends was killed for no particular reason by black and Latino gang members, and ever since then he hated anyone who wasn't him. Val and Bianca despised the slurs and the hate that filled his heart, but there was nothing they could do to stop it.

"Well I'll just have to get him myself won't I?" she huffed.

"You always do. Will you ever learn?"

"Daddy was overreacting."

"Only because he caught you half naked with some fucking guy."

"He didn't have to kill him." Bianca said holding back tears and hiding her quivering lips. "He said he was sorry."

"You forget alot of things, don't you?" Jaxx sighed and opened the door to his car. "I'm out." He gave a brief wave and sped off down the street.

Bianca because of her looks knew she could get whatever and whoever she wanted. By a simple smile or poking out her developing chest. The older associates of the Joker knew that his little girl was off limits to anyone and everyone and no matter how much she flirted or even gave you the look you were not allowed to touch her. Even giving the wrong glance could send your soul to kingdom come. However when the younger associates were eventually invited to their house and spotted Bianca they assumed she was sixteen or eighteen. Their ignorance would be the death of them.

Jaxx drove for several minutes into he was out of the country and into Gotham City. The Narrows was far more exciting than the dead town of Avalon. There was only one grocery store and it was surrounded by trees. Nothing but trees and wilderness. Jaxx hated every moment of it. He enjoyed the city life, and wanted to get his own apartment so he didn't have to be in the middle of nowhere but his father wanted to keep the family together. That among other things caused many fights in the house. He had to drive all the way to Bludhaven to even get to a mall.

He turned his music up until he could feel the vibrations of the bass hit against his chest. He drove fast, swerving in and out of lanes to reach his destination. He saw a cop car in the alley and looked in his rear view mirror, but the cop didn't move or turn on his sirens. In his kingdom he was practically untouchable. He paralleled park to the side of a shabby green apartment, and locked his door. He didn't need to but it was just a precaution. Everyone knew that if they so much as leaned on Jaxx's car they might as well have signed their own death certificate. As he walked up the dirty steps to open the door a homeless man bowed his head as he walked by. He snickered to himself and pushed open the door. The Prince of Gotham, had it's benefits.

The smell of sweat, sex and urine greeted his nostrils and it took a second for him to adjust to it to make his way up the stairs. He walked through the hallway and up a few flight of stairs avoiding garbage, used condoms and several beetles enjoying some rotten bread that was on the edge of the fifth stair. He smelled burnt heroin as he walked past a door or so, what an awful smell.

Jaxx walked of the hallway and knocked on the door hard with the side of his fist. he waited for several seconds and knocked on the door again.

"Who is it?" said a voice coming from the inside of the room.

"Jaxx, duh." Jaxx replied with a smirk on his face.

"Come on in." she said.

Jaxx walked through the door and closed it behind him, locking it. He jumped over the cough and landed flat on his butt. He stretched his long legs and on a scarred, banged up wod table. He leaned his head up against the cigarette burned pillows and closed his eyes. If he didn't have that energy drink he would've fallen asleep. He barely slept. Too many parties and not enough hours in the day. Getting drunk and high off his ass with his close friend Pyro was what he wanted.

He listened to the woman move around in the other room, her heels tapping on the creaky boards, making a rhythm that only he heard. He was tingling with anticipation, that he could hardly control himself. The smell pot lingering in the air, and the sounds of the air condition running softly. Lost in the sounds he almost jumped when he felt her hands wrap gently around his neck and down the front of his body. He opened his eyes and touched her hands.

"Hey." he said.

"Happy Birthday." she said into his ear. A blunt rested in between her fingers only inches from his. He took the blunt and inhaled. The drug burned his throat but he kept it down for the full effect and exhaled blowing some smoke in her direction.

She was blonde with big blue eyes and soft tanned skin. She had a pretty nice body for Jaxx's standards but she was pretty chubby. Jaxx just liked how big her boobs were in her shirt, but when she took off her bra the attraction went along with them. Her face was not bad either, if she wore a little more make up. For someone like her she was more of a thing he could release tension and fluids into and not a girl he could actually call his own. Plus she was too old. She was said she was thirty-five but that was two years ago. He even knew her daughter who was only two years younger than he was. He didn't care about her age for the most part. She was a good fuck and that was all that mattered.

"Like that?" she asked, running her fingers up and down his chest biting her lips.

"Mhm." he said taking another drag and closed his eyes as the marijuana started to effect his vision. "You always have the best stuff Ellie." She smiled and placed her hands steady on his abdomen.

"Wow you're well toned for a...."

"Eighteen year old." he said.

"Mhm. Right."

He stretched his fingers up and down her arm stroking it sensually, leaving a trail of goosebumps up her arm. "You have nice hands." she complimented.

"I know." he slide his hand up her arm to her shoulder and down her chest running his hand lightly over her breast making her moan slightly.

"Nice tits." he said giving them a small squeeze. She chuckled a bit and asked "So, what do you want to do now?"

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Blake finished his homework finally and walked up to his room. He snuck past his mothers as she applied her daily facials. He walked to his haven and closed the door. His room was entirely black from the door that he duck taped black to the door to the dirty black carpeted floors. He sat on his black bed and slide his hand between his mattress and the box spring and clenched his fist around a glass object and pulled it out.

His parents knew that he smoked pot and they didn't care, they smoked it too but he never wanted any of them to use his piece. The last time anyone did Jaxx accidentally put a crack in it and who knew what disease he was carrying. He took out his dime bag that he kept inside his broken lamp on the floor and smashed the sweet smelling plant into his piece and lit it up with his black pentagram zippo lighter. He took another couple of hits and exhaled. He didn't _need_ to get high, he just did it out of boredom.

He rested on his bed and opened the Satanic bible by Reverend Anton LaVey. After several minutes of reading he felt his eyes become heavy and his mind couldn't concentrate on the words he was reading. For a couple minutes he forced his eyes open, but he decided to place the book beside him and close his eyes for a bit. It felt like only a few seconds later when he heard his little sisters voice squeaking in his ears echoing in his dream state. He felt someone touch his shoulder and shake him gently. He peeled open his eyes, and looked above him. Bianca's face was only a few inches from his. Blake jumped back and rubbed his eyes.

"What?" he asked, he was incredibly annoyed despite the monotone in his voice. Bianca jumped on his bed. She was still in her bikini, which didn't rub Blake the right way. She picked up his pipe and zippo lighter and took a quick hit from it. "Don't touch my stuff." he said snatching it from her.

"Rude!" she said sticking out her tongue.

"What do you want?" he asked, tucking the pipe away back in his hiding spot.

"I had to borrow your toothpaste this morning." Bianca confessed, taking out the toothpaste that was carefully hidden in her hand. His Aquafresh toothpaste was completely flattened, with the top pointed up, like the last of his days cleaning teeth had slowly come to an end. He snatched the toothpaste and stared at her hard. His cold eyes made her shiver.

"How did you get the last of the toothpaste out?" he asked, raising a eyebrow. Bianca placed her arms behind her back and swayed around.

"Um, flattened it out, why?"

Blake rolled his eyes, and replied. "You're not suppose to do that, Bianca." He took the toothpaste and rolled it from the bottom up until it reached the top. "You're suppose to do that. Not flaten it." Bianca scrunched up her nose and jumped off his bed.

"Sorry." she snapped and headed for the door, before turning around and asked sweetly. "Hey wheres Daddy?"

Blake shrugged. "Eh, could possibly be with Ray or something along those lines. How would I know?"

"Oh." Bianca walked out of Blake's room and he finally had it all to himself. He clicked the remote to his laptop and clicked the play button and black metal music blared throughout his room. He yawned again and closed his eyes however he couldn't go back to sleep. After twenty minutes of trying hard to just fall asleep he put on his boots that were laying on the floor next to his bed. He slide them over his black pants and walked out his room and down the stairs. He could smell his mother pressing her hair with the hair straightener. He peaked in the room, but decided not to bother his mother. As he walked out the door one of Bianca's dogs that she begged so hard for walked up to him.

Pancakes was a half pomeranian, half poodle. Her puffy white hair looked like cotton candy on her small body and the pink neck collar around her neck stuck out like a sore thumb. Bianca just had to have that dog and of course their father gave in. He always gave in to her. No matter how annoying the task was he always had to make Bianca happy. Pancakes walked over to him with dainty small steps like a Victorian lady and looked up at him and barked. She pawed at his boots and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine." he said to the dog and picked her up. He walked to the kitchen area where the animals would get their food. He walked to the pink dish labeled Pancakes in cursive letters and poured her favorite food into it. Pancakes barked happily and stuck her face into the bowel and ate. He petted her and walked out the front door and through the garden that his mother spent so much time in maintaining. He carefully avoided all the flowers but stepped on the weeds that infected his mothers pride and joy. When he was through the garden he walked into the woods. He shivered slightly wishing he had brought a jacket but it was fairly warm for a October morning.

He touched the back of his neck and sighed with relief. He remembered once again to bring his pentagram and inverted cross necklace. He touched the freshly polished cold silver, it still even smelled like the lemon scented polish he used. He stroked it a few more times before putting his hands in his pockets. He listened to the birds flap their wings as they flew from tree to tree. His feet cracked and ripped apart the fallen leaves from years ago as he walked deeper into the forest. He liked to become one with nature. It was the only thing about him that kept him sheltered from the conformist world that he lived in. He hated his house it was too big, and he didn't have much privacy and he longed to just stay in the woods and live by himself.

But that day was too far away.

He walked for nearly an hour when he smelled something cooking not too far from where he was standing. He took the knife that clung on the inside of his boot and walked cautiously to a camp site. A young man was attending to a pot that was cooking over a controlled flame. He seemed blissfully ignorant of Blake's presence. He grinned slightly and made his way forward careful not to even so much as let the leaves rustle beneath his feet. He waited for his camp tent to move but it didn't. There wasn't any sign of another person with him. He hid behind the tent and listened to hear any sound of anyone sleeping or moving just to make sure. He quietly walk to the man as he cooked.

He dragged the knife across the leaves and watched as the man looked behind him and his eyes widen with fear. He fell backwards his hand landing flat on the fire. He screamed in pain and quickly put his coat sleeve out in the bundles of leaves. He looked up at Blake was had his large hunting knife in hand.

"Wh-What do you want?" he asked.

Blake didn't respond instead he rubbed his pentagram and inverted cross between his fingers before lunging for the man. He fell hard to ground landing on top of the guy who screamed in pain. Blake stabbed the man in the throat deep enough to make him choke on his blood but not deep enough for him to break his neck. He pulled the knife out of his throat. Blood from his wound soared out hitting Blake's pale skin, just in between his eye. He grinned callously and wiped the blood away from his face. He took the knife and stabbed the man in both of his eyes. The man tried to make out a scream but it came out as a gurgle as he choked on his blood. He took the sharpest point of the knife and sliced a inverted cross on his forehead. He pressed the knife in deeper and deeper until it scraped the top of his skull. He wiped away the blood with a pale hand and admired his work.

"What a fine specimen you've been." he said in a even tone. He looked at the bloody inverted cross. "Hmm, I'm getting better at that wouldn't you say?" he asked him as the man started to become stiff. The gurgling soon stopped and Blake stepped over the body and wiped the blood off from his knife with the mans jacket. He looked at what the man was cooking. It was chicken noodle soup, not bad for Blake's taste and he was starting to get hungry anyway. He took the pot off the fire and waited for the soup to cool.

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_That's the end of the second chapter. Please review for me? I can see you're reading it, the least you can do is drop a review. :] I'll even return the favor if you have some stories on your page. Okay so just so we know a few things. Jaxx, Bianca and Blake are Val and the Jokers children just in case you haven't picked that up. Sorry theres not much Joker in this chapter. I promise next chapter will. _


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